


Universal Jet-Lag

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Arguing, Fun, Johan will be driven Mad by Niamh, Kim is in Hell, We Goin' Universe Hoppin' Lads, the lacie mentioned is halfusek's, the universe is control_room's btw, unintentionally but we do that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: Unknowingly jumping through realities can mess up your memories.Set in Control_Room's BATIMverse





	Universal Jet-Lag

“Where the hell’s the lawyer been, anyways?”

Johan turned to Niamh, confused by the sudden question: “Where is who?”

“The lawyer.” she replied. As usual, she didn’t see it necessary to elaborate anything further, instead opting for staring intensely at her interlocutor in the firm belief that the blue haired man would understand immediately what was going on in her head.

Sadly for her, Johan wasn’t a telepath.

“What lawyer?”

“The lawyer.”

“I’ll need you to be more specific.”

“Oh focken’ Jesus on a stick, _the lawyer_. The one we _have_.”

“There have _never_ been lawyers in Joey Drew Studios as far as _I_ remember.”

“Yes there have!” the much smaller woman insisted, starting to get irritated.

“Niamh, I assure you we don’t-”

“Yes we do! It’s the lawyer! The one with the, the…” she held her right fist to her forehead and snapped its finger a couple of times, trying to remember, “… The damned, shitty chin beard or whatever the hell it’s called!”

“Listen to me! We don’t have a lawyer! It’s me the one who deals with all the lawyering and legal stuff!”

“We do have a goddamn lawyer! ‘Tis yer brother-in-law, for feck’s sake!”

Wait.

“… My what?” he asked, careful not to ignite the pale bomb in front of him while also trying to make sense of those inconsistencies with reality.

Niamh looked like she was a couple dozen seconds away from neatly breaking him into four perfectly simmetric parts like a KitKat made out of LEGO bricks.

“Yer _brother-in-law. _Married that **_shite_** o’ yer half-sister. Don’t try ta tell me ya don’t got _that._”

Something clicked, albeit a tad late, in Johan’s brain.

“Niamh, I don’t have a half-sister.”

“Focken hell, yes ya–!”

There was a pause in which the Irishwoman’s eyes widened, her stare focusing somewhere a little taller than her boss and at the right of his head as her mouth didn’t completely close. It took her some minutes before she managed to actually part her lips fully and speak again: “Ya don’t?”

“No.” Johan shook his head, slowly, an idea of what might have been happening starting to come to him, “Never had one.”

“Ah.” was the response.

And then she turned and kept doing what she’d been doing, completely ignoring the entire conversation that had taken place litteral seconds before.

* * *

Lacie had just come over to get something that Thomas had left at Heavenly Toys after fixing the assembly line. She couldn’t remember if he’d said wrench or something else, but she figured it would have stuck out among the plushies and various toy making tools anyways. She’d been searching around for a good fifteen minutes (only partly because she couldn’t find the thing itself; mainly, it wasn’t particularly important to find it soon, so really she wasn’t in a rush) when she noticed pair of brown and gold eyes had been fixated on her for quite a while now.

She turned and raised her eyebrow: “Something wrong?”

Kim kept staring at the mechanic with a somewhat concerned, puzzled expression on his face. He raised a finger towards her, trying to choose the right words: “Have you… Have you always looked like… That?”

“Like that how? Like myself, ya mean?” Lacie asked, pointing at her own visage.

The toy maker just sort of nodded.

“Well, I sure hope so! Why’d you ask?”

Kim shook his head with a soft apology. The sturdy woman was getting ever so slightly worried for him.

“I’m serious, Grosso, why? What’s the matter, have I looked weird this whole time and I never knew?”

“No, no, it’s just… I thought I remembered you…” he made a strange motion - his hand waved in front of his temples and eyes as if t was either discarding or accumulating fog, “Different.”

“Different how? Like with another kind of nose, or hair… ?”

“Like a white redhead.”

Lacie let out a slightly relieved though mostly incredulous laugh that echoed throughout the department: “What on Earth have you been eating lately, Kim?” she wheezed, “Oh, dear God, you sure everything’s ok? That’s- That’s pretty impressive, to mistake me for someone like _that_.”

“Sorry, Ms. Benton. Must be all the time working in hell.”

“_Hell_? Heavenly Toys, _hell_? When did that relocation happen?”

“When mornings began starting with a good dozen identical Irish menaces yelling at the top of their lungs.” Kim answered.

As if to emphasize his point, one of the other toy makers entered i that exact instant. “TOP O’ THE MORNING!” he screamed, and on cue litterally every other Irish man in the room shouted the same thing back at him, sorrounding the only two black folks with a bunch of similar, excessively loud voices.

The mechanic covered her ears and took a good look at Kim, not even attempting to shield himself from the noise, and at his utterly done face while she tried to suppress giggles. He seemed so tired.

“I despise every last one of them so much.” he sobbed, his clearly non-Irish voice a welcomed sour note in the cacophony of thick, screaming accents.

It felt really mean to laugh in his face like that.


End file.
